Hip-Hop in the Holy Land, AK-47 Poetry: How I Learned to Be Okay Watching the World Burn

This is Atlanta🙂 haha, if we could get these cowboys and rappers to agree and dance together we’d have world peace… This video is South-North Atlanta, Israel-Palestine, Pine Ridge-Rapid City…

It’s the Lakeside High School Prom…

AK-47 Poetry: How I Learned to Be Okay Watching the World Burn

My pastor is the mud, black, red, and angry,
Scum of the earth to those shards without wounds,
Darkness taught me to write, search for truth,
The truth ain’t pretty sometimes,
Mama wanted more than I could be,

I find hope in those souls that tell it like it is,
Not like it should be, soul commandos,
Niggas with an attitude, NWA, say, “Fuck the police!”
We need our drugs in the hood to survive,
You see truth hurts, raw and powerful,

Like it is, not like “It should be,”
I find hope in soul fury, it’s how I find peace,
Somehow, things today are more real,
We’re coming out of the closet,
Refusing to let the acid eat us out from the inside,

Poets like me write to survive,
We find hope in a friend loving us for our wounds,
Loving us for our brokenness,
Today, we’ve got a need for a better world,
A friend once said, “Hip-Hop might save the world,”

From ghettos around the world,
The poor and the oppressed are speaking up,
Refusing to hide, ain’t nothin’ wrong with my words,
That’s my cry for a better world,
You see I love to see the old world burn,

I hate the oppressive propriety of generations past,
Boulder crushing my soul,
If I’m silent how will I find my people?
My congregation is a church of the damed,
We’re living in the end of an age,

That’s where it is, don’t take that from me,
I chose this poverty, privileged enough to be free,
I had a choice to listen to the beat of those on the margins,
That’s where I find real love, in the raw bloody wounds of our times,
I love to watch the barriers burn away,

I love to etch souls with superacid, that’s my job,
I don’t settle for the human, I want to be immortal,
I have inside me blood of a warrior,
Verse my sword, my kung fu,
Trap music speaks to the times,

Dr. King ain’t alive no more, X dead,
We kill our prophets, red like the skin of America,
Black like the skin of Africa,
Money ain’t king when you don’t got it,
I like it that way, poetry is where I derive my new lifeway,

Mathematics of the soul, my preacher is my pen,
It connects me with others, finding hope in bare ground,
I like my spoken world like my music, loud and heavy,
I take ’em out, you want to see?
No apology, no white guilt, no problem,

If someone does not like my venom then they can call me a demon,
I don’t want to sell my soul for a dollar,
I am real, I am human, ain’t no one gonna turn me around,
A plow, poetry is how I learned to live,
Connect, love, let go,

I find out in time there are more like me,
Wandering ghosts in a soulless abyss,
Dark night of the soul is the place where we all need to be,
Maybe hell is where we all need to be right now?
Let the world burn, Judgement Day will come,

Apocalyptic as it sounds asteroids are running for president,
God control the world, not the Benjamin,
God control my venom, verse vigilante,
God made men, Colt made them equal,
The pen makes Gods of men,

When I say there are kids on I-94 blocking traffic,
I say they are screaming for the words to speak truth to power,
Hit the bourgeoise where it hurts,
Make them miss work, shut it down!
Things are going too fast,

We all need to connect and see this time for what it really is,
The human age, the Anthropocene,
Mass extinction the norm, oh well!
Let it burn, good poets turn blood into verse,
There are many who have not even had a chance,

Clear the brush of the rich for them,
For those with nothing revolution is hopeful,
Riots are joyful, anger released in fires and Molotov cocktails,
No more hiding! No more rich men telling you what to do!
No more repression of suffering! Chaos and anarchy!

Maybe Prometheus stole fire from Zeus for this,
To be human is to sin, to be human in to eat,
To be human is to drink, to be human is to love,
Satan is man’s best friend, child Prometheus,
Knowledge and power, darkness rules,

From dust we came, to dust we shall return,
We live in a void, infinite space, absolute nothing,
Learn to love death, death is peace,
Satori, with that knowledge enlightenment comes,
Mind thunderstorms come into clarity,

Depression passes, acid of time eats it away,
Taste my venom, in it you will find hope,
There are those with privilege willing to throw it away,
Ready to be in those place most won’t go,
Exploring it for you to learn to light the fires of change,

This rock, earth, is small and tiny,
We’ll learn to share it after the greed dies,
Bullets pierce the hearts of men and women,
I’m willing to just throw everything away to see it happen,
Are you?

Buy the full book


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Liberate Palestine, A Step to Solving Climate Change Problem


Why are we cool with this?
This is a theological problem but it’s real…
Symbol of ecological inequity behind climate change…
Rich burn carbon, kill poor, and call them terrorists when they rise up…
Then we kill more…

Wonder if I can do some good with this? The best paper I’ve seen in Science ever…

“You can fix the world’s problems only if you know where they are. That’s why tracking poverty in Africa, for example, is critical for the United Nations, which launched a global poverty campaign last year. But gathering the data on the ground can be dangerous, slow, and expensive. Now, a study using satellite images and machine learning reveals an alternative: mapping poverty from space.”

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Learning to Die in the Anthropocene: Reflections on the End of Civilization

“World War III is well and truly underway. And we are losing.”
-Bill Mckibben article

Burning carbon as if it does not matter. Thwarting conference after conference to mitigate CO2 emissions. Rio failure. Kyoto failure. Paris failure. Why? America.

“By most of the ways we measure wars, climate change is the real deal: Carbon and methane are seizing physical territory, sowing havoc and panic, racking up casualties, and even destabilizing governments. (Over the past few years, record-setting droughts have helped undermine the brutal strongman of Syria and fuel the rise of Boko Haram in Nigeria.) It’s not that global warming is like a world war. It is a world war. Its first victims, ironically, are those who have done the least to cause the crisis. But it’s a world war aimed at us all. And if we lose, we will be as decimated and helpless as the losers in every conflict–except that this time, there will be no winners, and no end to the planetwide occupation that follows.”

Osama Bin Laden’s poem to America a couple of years before he opened up the first shot in the total destruction of the Western way of life. Like Blitzkrieg on Poland in World War II and shooting of Archduke in World War I, but way bigger…. The irony is that we’ve done it to ourselves… The truth is that his poem contains a lot of truths that I take personally as things I need to work on in my own heart and mind. Ironic that a poem by America’s greatest enemy can be a way to a better life way…

Death to America

Do what you can, and so shall we. Just wait!—we too are waiting.

— Qur’an XI. 121-22

1. The Great Satan

The inhabitants of the earth
Are drunk
With the wine of your fornications!
You have given birth
To terror, hatred, hysteria!
Your people are sunk
In stupefaction.

Darkness has come upon you.
You think you live in the light.
Your eyes have been blinded.
Your people stumble in darkness.
Greed has undone you.
Pride and lust are your blight.
God’s sees, and has minded!

Miserable crew, forever whining
About 9/11 and your precious virtue!—
As if you alone had known pain
And the world were under obligation
To kiss your feet and court you
And approach you with shining
Eyes—you blot, you stain!—
You object of utter detestation!

Country of murderers and thieves,
Bloodsuckers of the Third World,
Devils with smiling faces—
My curse on you for ever!
May your land be reduced to a wild
Desolation, may all that lives
In your tainted spaces
Never know peace—or joy—ever!

2. The Coming Doom

Where your people once lived
Secure in the illusion
Of their superior virtue,
There the bison will roam
Again, the frog spread confusion
Over the marshes, the vulture thrive.
There’ll be none to hurt you
There, buried beneath your slime!

Another people will possess your land
Taking your place, a race
From beyond the sea, superior
In virtue: one that practises
What you only preach, showing a face
Of kindness and compassion and
Care for mankind: a race far dearer
To God, and less prone to vices.

You brew trouble, you foment wars
So you can peddle your arms.
Pain screams
From the mouths of children so
That your hatchers of harm
Can trinket their whores
And live the American dream.
That way lies hell, and there you go!

You defile all the regions you rule,
You scatter your bases and rob
The lands you begrime and bescum!
Who helps to kill children for kicks
In Palestine? May Abu Ghraib
Gnaw away at your inmost soul
Like a maggot! The time will come
When your backs will be beaten by sticks!

3. The Holy Land

Israel!—an American colony
Disguised as a Jewish state,
Deliberately planted to destabilize
And drive entire races demented!
A country whose main product is hate,
Whose raison d-être is to make misery,
Where peace would be the only surprise!
A country not owned, but rented

From the Arabs temporarily, by force—
Where the rent is always in arrears.
America, the day will come
When the rent will have to be paid
With compound interest. You’ll reap in tears
What you sowed in joy! At the end of this course,
You will pick up the tab and become
Chief debtor for the monster you made!

See, the betrayer of the Jews—
The Jews themselves! Or rather
Those who call themselves Jews, the pseudo
Ashkenazi Jews with their blue eyes
And blonde hair! Could any race be further
From the true Semitic Jews whose
Blended blood has been poured into
Other bloods under alien skies?

These are the ones, the hocus-pocus
Imposter Jews, who now blow the trumpet
For Zion, stigmatizing
Their critics, and heaping abuse
On those who object to the rank armpit
Of Israel!—Oh, how we loathe these bogus
European Jews whose devisings
Were all learnt from Hitler’s hellcrews.

4. The Day of Reckoning

September 11? That was just
The beginning! Prepare for more
Of the same!—for further contingents
Of “cowards” hell bent on suicide
Flying in to your hated shores!
How can you win? You’ve already lost!
You’ve lost respect: the moral argument.
You are universally despised!

Invincible America, aren’t you glad
You’re so strong? What “courage” it must take
To skulk behind the clouds and rain
Cluster bombs on the weak, without peril
To your own skins! Yes, it’s a piece of cake
Killing women and children in Baghdad!
Congratulations, America! You win
First prize for shooting fish in a barrel!

Hear now my message: Depart
From our lands: you have your own.
Don’t steal our oil! It lies under
Our sands, and there it shall stay!
Get out of our sight! Leave us alone!
Practise the torturer’s art
On your own people! I wonder
What Christ would think of Camp X-ray?

Nation of impudent parasites!—
Supervirus of the world!—
So you think you hold all the aces?
Hear now my curse: May all your bones
Be broken, your ashes all whirled
To the wind! May you who delight
In sowing tares in all places

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Bill Mckibben is Wrong, We Don’t Need to Declare War on Gaia


“We’re under attack from climate change—and our only hope is to mobilize like we did in WWII.”

From article in New Republic BY Bill Mckibben

Bill Mckibben is a fucking moron.  That state of mind he expresses in this article is the state of mind that got us into this mess in the first place…

We need to declare a Jihad on the Wašíču state of mind…

Story of life on earth…  Gaia creates Adam, he sets her on fire, she wipes him out with rising waters…

Unless daughters of Eve figure out how to restore divine feminine to humanity…



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Stop Climate Change and Save the World: Hard


Coding this into a iOS game.  Daisyworld with gender… Prayer for climate change solution simulator.

Prayer Outcome Simulator: Pray to Mother Gaia, one result… Pray to Father God, another result… (The mess we’re in).

Some screenshots from a game that just showed up on the App store that is about terra forming and has a gender component to how you can play.  TerraGenesis.



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Water is the first Transformation of Fire: Exploring the Feminine Divine in Islam via a Video Game


In Princeton Seminary, there was a radical obsession with Barthian theology. I despised it, but it was only the latest in a long line of putting the divine outside the world in the Abrahamic tradition. I think the ecological consequences of God as radically other from the world are devastating. They may have been the source of not only such lovely things as climate change, this theological error was directly responsible for much of the spiritual holocaust that occurred when missionaries encountered Native American spiritual frameworks. Take this quote from Barth:

“God, the pure limit and pure beginning of all that we are, have, and do, standing over in infinite qualitative difference to man and all that is human, nowhere and never identical with that which we call God, experience, surmise, and pray to as God, the unconditioned Halt as opposed to all human rest, the yes in our no and the no in our yes, the first and last and as such unknown, but nowhere and never a magnitude amongst others in the medium known to us, God the Lord, the Creator and Redeemer . . . that is the living God.”

…or look at The Lord’s Prayer:

Our Father in heaven,
hallowed be your name.
Your kingdom come,
your will be done,
on earth as it is in heaven.
Give us this day our daily bread,
and forgive us our debts,
as we also have forgiven our debtors.
And lead us not into temptation,
but deliver us from evil.

Contrast this with the following prayer from a Lakota friend:

“When the morning star comes out and the waterbird makes her call,
the Sister Moon slips away,another day begins…..
The many threads of life woven together,hand in hand,
we walk together towards the sunset of our journeys end,
harmonizing with the strength of our Mother Earth,
as her heart reverberates with each graceful step….
Gliding across her bosom with our faces flowing with pride and hope for our future Generations,
the depth of our inner beings vibrate with the essence of sage,sweetgrass and cedar…..
As the wings of our brother Eagle gently takes us into the realm of greater understanding we take the courage to stand up and make a difference for our future singers,
dancers and voices of a new Generation to come……..
Let us be in Unity and Stand In The Spirits of Our Ancestors…..”

I am so hit by the idea that our intentions to how we feel about earth are affected by the way we pray, and was so curious I started to query the video game market for games that capture the difference spiritual frameworks. I found this game Never Alone and am curious to continue to play it and try to make one of my own for the Islamic tradition.

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Wašíču are Infidels: Ghost Dance Intifada



Lakota friend

Standing Rock is not the AIM reoccupation of Alcatraz or the stand off at Wounded Knee. This is a global civil war between those who love the Google and Standard Oil version of the future and those crushed by it. Radical Political Islam in my eyes is the most violent and ruthless wing of indigenous resistance to the machine. There can be nonviolent solutions, but there’s need to be some bite too. Need to write a second book on this to get the idea developed and out. Really need to write a ton to get this idea developed. Did not go to seminary and chemistry grad school for nothing.


After seeing a film on Gaza last night, I see this as an intifada against what the Lakota call the wašíču state of mind.


The film confirmed my hunch I wrote out into myriad poems. I want to help and see it first hand. If I am willing to put a bullet in my head over darkness due to oil war I should fight in the American Intifada (post talking about that…). This poem was written while watching a Jesuit school raise money from Ivy League donors via a “pow wow” show. Guilt offerings. Just one young man dancing felt something else, at least as I saw it. I am an Infidel and a Wašíču so disgusted with this way of life I was raised with I want to shed my snake skin and discover something different. I will never forget that night at the Red Cloud Indian School.

BRITAIN IN PALESTINE 1917-1948 from Balfour Project on Vimeo.

Told by a dance partner in Rapid (who had never been to Pine Ridge) I was dirty, I just laughed and wrote this about the Ghost Dance and Gaza.

Pow Wow, Friday the 13th

This is war,
I lie wounded on wintery ground,
With hundred of corpses around,
Many wounded crawl helplessly around,
On the blood red snowy ground,


Cries of the (ha, ha) suffering sound,
Cries for help to all their dead moms,


Many hours of music,
Many drops of blood,
Many shivering and now I am dead,
And still we must never give up,

War, (1)

Skinny, Blue shirt, black tie, dark glasses,
Sharp moves to the right, in step with drum,
Sharp jabs at my heart, my car is dirty,
My bed is full of bugs, drive right, cut hard,

Close my eyes, I am young brave, a man,
Darkness of my eyelids, red cloud,
I do not want to be awake,
Let me dance my dream,

My heart bleeds red, here on the Rez,
Where the sky is an ocean,
South Dakota Gaza strip,
Warriors of the Lakota Nation,

Gaza, Gaza, don’t you cry,
Palestine will never die,
Gaza, Gaza, don’t you cry,
Palestine will never die,

My children, my children,
The wind makes the head-feathers sing,
The wind makes the head-feathers sing,
My children, my children,

Skinny blue lone wolf, war,
Alone in a circle of ghosts,
Modern youth, lightening bolt,
Torn between an electric railroad,

And a buffalo skull teepee,
A common dream, an age of justice,
War, not peace, sharp cut to the right,
Faster, faster, faster,

Crack the skull of the white man,
Death to the White Man, white ghost,
I am not a domesticated animal,
I am not a show, this is war,

In my Jesuit cell, Constantine’s Sword,
Under the shadow of the cross,
I speak to spirits, Gaza, Gaza,
Don’t you cry, Palestine will never die,

My children, my children,
The wind makes the head-feathers sing,
The wind makes the head-feathers sing,
My children, my children,

Your dance is war, wake up Lakota Nation,
Dance sharp like Skinny Blue Wolf,
Dark eyes, sharp black hair, tight moves,
He’s doing it right, cut right,

Crack the white skull,
Drive out the settler,
Restore the Black Hills,
To their rightful owners.

(1) Burzum, War

A photograph of my face in 2009, even then I thought about this but did not really have the words to talk about it.


Second poem:

God is Dead, Good (a poem on smart nukes to “protect Israel”)

“Evil can be smart. Smart doesn’t have to be wise nor good. Just smart in one’s ways.”
– Harper Pollock (a.k.a. Diogenes)

Thermonuclear Smart Death, four fins,
Teller’s daughter’s skull,
Von Neumann’s son’s brain,
Jewish techno-children,
Protecting the ravers and nudists,
From the desert wolves, friends,
My loving friends, my loving children,
Privileged American Jews, you once,
A long time ago were poor and slaves,
Soon you will be sold as slaves again,
ISIS’s slaves,
Erdogan’s Ottomans,
Soilders of Death, Smart Death,
No smart nuke will stop them,
Daesh is scary, bio-weapons in hand,
They are coming for all of us,
They want to die, because,
We did not listen to Heidegger, and,
Return our technology to a state of being,
A state in harmony with the Spirit of Earth,
Gaia’s going to have the last laugh,
In your lust for a promised land, Israel,
Moses’s children are going to send us,
All to hell, or heaven, I want neither,
There is no heaven or hell, there is just,
A single blue marble, in a void,
God is Dead, thank you,
Now, will people stop fighting,
About Him and protect their Mother, Gaia?

Now articles are coming out basically supporting the thesis of my poetry book.

Not a coincidence…

Islamophobia has reached a point that I burn hate propaganda now with joy.

An extremely Islamophobic piece of hate art appeared at my work yesterday, Muslims on Hajj depicted as savages with pigs being flown into the holy site. So I wrote a poem and burned it as therapy and a sign of love to the man who put it there.

Gâvur (Infidel)

“In hoc signo vinces.” (“In this sign you will conquer.”)
– Constantine

Gâvur, betrayer of Christ,
By this Crescent Moon,
I will burn your sign,
Under a half moon,
The flint strikes,

I happily torch your sign,
Chi Rho, betrayer of Christ,
Infidel dog,
Every crusader,
Every single one in my land,

Will be repelled,
Sent to hell,
American flags,
Burned in my home,
You left a memory,

Of hypocrisy,
…and stupidity,
There is no erasing it,
Forget it,
Move on.

Uniting with friends, it’s cool. My poems are a bridge to healing and love in community.

For those who are concerned about the Dakota access pipeline being build on the northeastern corner of the Lakota Standing Rock reservation, consider attending this event this year in the Black Hills. I met my friend Tom Swift Bird online after Googling for information of the failure of missionaries and nonprofits on Pine Ridge (link). He’s a musician, visual artist, computer man, and photographer. We’ve started a really nice friendship, talking a lot about art and technology and how it helps us in our lives and how it helps us reach others. The arts like music have a huge role in transmitting alternatives to our current destructive world culture of domination. The Lakota people have survived wave after wave of people coming near and on their lands to extract resources via a spiritual bond transmitted in art. Gold, uranium, and now oil transport. Genocide was committed as earth was raped for minerals. Come hear some music to discover the culture that lives in this part of our country. The first step to having compassion is discovering the life way of another group of people. I feel this concert looks like a really good way to discover and connect. I am not sure if I can attend, but please consider going if you are able to. I even write a poetry interpretation of what I saw reflecting Tom’s post after being told not to become part of the “fog” in Pine Ridge (link). Melancholy, not happy but real. What I decided to was become fog and embrace the darkness as a first step to connect, the exact opposite of what I was told. Curious to see real reflections of life good and bad in the musicians in this set list. Hopeful to learn more by searching for SoundClouds, etc… I don’t think that it’s any coincidence that Tom and I love black metal. Me diving into after seeing the explosion of war in the Middle East (my dad’s lands) and Islamophobia and he after growing up in Pine Ridge. I saw a woman from Belgium volunteering and talking about getting a gun to kill Arab refugees in Belgium if the “threatened her.” The absolutely absurdity of this woman talking about killing one kind of native displaced from anscestral lands while “helping” another group made me run in repulsion from the situation I was in for fear of exploding in anger against the situation. That’s it, hopeful art can heal and bring some real change and peace to the situation. An aggressive militant solution the Dakota Access pipeline is a possibility and I support it, not throwing pennies into a black hole, but destroying the dragon as freedom fighters do around the world in acts of resistance.


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